


A Tiger Likes A Tight Leash

by CalamityK



Series: Hear Me Roar [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Believe it or not there's fluff, Bendy Sex, First Time, Flexibility, Fluff, His hair is also TO HIS ASS almost, I'll repeat this, JJ gets decked, M/M, Oh my god the leg thing?, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, READ THE NOTES SECTION, Smut, The Leg Thing, Yuri POV, Yuri Plisetsky is 18 years old and had been so for a while, Yuri is 18, also this picks up where part two left off, everyone else is only mentioned and the first part is yuri remembering stuff, he deserves it tho, kind of, light D/s dynamic, this is porn, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK
Summary: Yuri can’t remember when it started; has no idea when the first instance of Otabek’s control over him was displayed. But somewhere over their three years of friendship, Yuri realized that not only does he listen to Otabek, he enjoys it.-----Or that one fic where Otabek knows just how to get under Yuri's skin. (Part Three of a series)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pumpkinpiechey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpiechey/gifts).



> I highly recommend reading Parts One and Two first kiddos....  
>   
> HERE IT IS... Part Three. Hope it lives up to expectations since we find out what Beka said.  
> It HAS been beta'd so any glaring mistakes are because my beta had a hard time focusing... *wink wink*
> 
> [THIS IS THE LEG THING OKAY (IF YOU NEED A REFERENCE)](https://68.media.tumblr.com/11929053d396f39d748642da47494478/tumblr_ofofbiZHQE1vh10gao1_500.jpg) (this link WAS broken but i've tried to repair it if it still doesn't work here is [another link of the exact same thing](http://kingotabek.tumblr.com/post/158057843807/in-one-of-your-fics-you-link-the-leg-thing-but) )  
> Also [HERE](http://www.thefashionisto.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/emil-andersson-photos-003.jpg) is a reference for 18 year old, long haired, total stunner Yuri Plisetsky. If you need a visual. [And one for OtaBAE](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UhGAJaQmj-4/TaWm9WPluLI/AAAAAAAABKE/EdDRH4O42jU/s1600/Chan+Than+sang.jpg). lol.  
> Enjoy my lovelies~~  
> as always this is dedicated to [Chey](suspiciousbuttons.tumblr.com) but Now maybe [Sara](sarsenter.tumblr.com) can stop screaming ;)

Yuri Plisetsky doesn’t like authority, he never has. He’s always associated weakness with being easily bossed around and controlled (much to the dismay of several coaches).  It’s a principle rule, he’s somehow etched into his entire being, that no one should be able to tell him what to do without him at least pushing back first.

Then Otabek Altin waltzed into his life with his “ _your eyes remind me of a soldier’s_ ”, then his timid offers of friendship and _apparently,_ his ability to warp Yuri’s entire psyche.

He can’t remember when it started; has no idea when the first instance of Otabek’s control over him was displayed. But somewhere over their three years of friendship, Yuri realized that not only does he listen to Otabek, _he enjoys it_.

It hasn’t been a bad thing, he supposes. Otabek has never abused the power, even though Yuri has no doubt the older skater noticed long before Yuri did himself.

As a matter of fact, until a few weeks ago, it had simply been another silent element of their friendship that kept Yuri out of trouble. Otabek would put a hand lightly on Yuri’s shoulder to keep him from lunging at reporters, or he’d softly pinch his wrist when Yuri was about to yell, then change the subject somehow. For almost two years, it never really went beyond that, and they never discussed it.

Yuri figures it probably would never have escalated into anything _more,_ if it weren’t for JJ’s stupid-ass self. Even with Otabek around to calm him down, JJ has always been a tough presence for Yuri to endure. His fights with JJ are always a lot more serious than the day to day spats he has with other people (mostly Victor). Luckily, he typically never encounters the infuriating Canadian outside of competitions.

Unluckily, JJ had won their last competition (his first win in a while), and had purposely sought Yuri afterwards to rub it in. The fight had progressed as usual. JJ had quipped about his gold medal, Yuri had firmly tried to ignore him before saying his usual line of ‘ _aren’t you getting old enough to retire_?’, then, as always, JJ had pushed the limit.

Otabek had arrived just in time to hear JJ saying _“I’ve decided not to retire until I’ve put ‘the lady’ firmly in her place. How did it feel to finally be below me again?”_

Yuri immediately saw red, that _shithead_ had the audacity to still call him a lady even after Yuri had surpassed him in height. That coupled with the suggestion that JJ was going to put Yuri ‘ _in his place’_ meant that even Otabek’s steady presence wasn’t enough to calm Yuri.

He had managed to land one solid punch to JJ’s pristine jaw before Otabek had grabbed him fully around the waist and barked “Stop!”

It shouldn’t have been enough to make Yuri go limp, but he had. He’d never heard Otabek speak above a reasonable octave, and he’d definitely never heard him yell. The surprise, mixed with Yuri’s strange will to listen to his friend, made him melt back against Otabek’s chest and allow himself to be dragged away.

Otabek yanked him into a nearby storage closet which gave Yuri the distinct feeling that he was about to be lectured very firmly by the older skater. Yuri’s first thought had been to apologize over and over—an instinct he’s never has—but before he could, Otabek had turned him around, moving his hold from Yuri’s waist to Yuri’s forearms. This gave him enough leverage to pin Yuri firmly against the wall.

Yuri’s whole body immediately went taut, but he couldn’t put up any resistance. Especially when he was confronted with Otabek’s face. The dark-haired man’s mouth was set into an even firmer line than normal, and his nostrils were flaring in and out as he breathed. It was the harshest Yuri had ever seen him look off the ice.

Otabek had spoken concernedly (if somewhat rigidly) when he’d finally said, “You’re going to get yourself banned from the ice reacting the way you do.”

Yuri hadn’t responded so Otabek added, “I know it’s not truly my place to be angry, but you didn’t let me calm you like usual.”

Yuri doesn’t know if it was their close proximity finally registering or if it was the way Otabek had smoothly acknowledged his own control over Yuri, but he remembers his breath hitching and Otabek’s tight grip becoming a lot more present in his mind. It had caused an intrusive thought, something about how Otabek could punish him, and about how Yuri would kind of like it. He had to bite his lip to keep the idea from voicing out loud.

The resulting shudder is what made Otabek react, his grip immediately loosening, and Yuri thinks he would have let go if Yuri hadn’t begun shaking his head suddenly.

“D-don’t.” Yuri remembers choking out, “Don’t let go of me.”

His voice had been quiet and pleading even to his own ears, and he was suddenly aware of the distinct tightening in the lower part of his costume.

“Why not?” Otabek had asked. He hadn’t let go of Yuri’s arms though, and the way his eyes scanned Yuri’s body, his rage gradually softening, signaled that he was already beginning to understand why.

Yuri is glad Otabek wasn’t slow on the uptake (and that he hadn’t shied away), even when tossed into unfamiliar territory. He doesn’t remember giving a coherent answer to that question, but he does remember the result.

It had led to Otabek shoving Yuri’s arms even higher while pressing his body fully against Yuri’s. With Yuri held so flat, Otabek had taken all the control.

Yuri suspects he might actually owe JJ a thank you, since the way his and Otabek’s dynamic has changed is in part due to JJ running his ugly mouth, but that would also involve apologizing for the fight. Yuri will never apologize. Though, it is nice to imagine the look on JJ’s face if he were to know exactly what events he chained into place.

He’s broken out of his memories and ponderings abruptly, by the sounds of Otabek moving around in the kitchen.

They came straight to Yuri’s place after practice. The trip here was silent, and Otabek had disappeared into the kitchen upon their arrival; leaving Yuri to his own devices in the living room. He took the chance to set up a relaxing movie for them to watch. He could use it after the day he’s had.

Otabek most likely assumes that Yuri is pouting from the spat with Victor and the humiliation that came with it, but he isn’t (at least not overly much). No, he may have been uncharacteristically quiet since they left the rink, but he’s not pouting. Either way, it’s Otabek’s fault.

Yuri hadn’t really been bothered by Victor’s teasing, no more than usual at least. Otabek on the other hand, had made Yuri feel a mixture of emotions over the course of the day.

The words Otabek had leaned down and whispered right above Yuri’s ear are still haunting him. He swears he felt the ghost of Otabek’s breath all through practice.

 _“Be good, Yuratchka. If you calm down maybe I’ll reward you later.”_ Then Otabek’s hand had trailed down Yuri’s side and landed on his waist. _“Then again, if you’re bad, perhaps I’ll get the chance to finally punish you.”_

The recall sends a nice chill down Yuri’s spine and his feet are moving before he realizes it; leading him to the kitchen and Otabek.

The other man is standing facing one of the counters, holding the mug Yuri had long ago given him (Yuri’s favorite since it has a white tiger’s shape). Otabek looks lost in his own thoughts, so Yuri reaches out and gently tugs on his free hand to get his attention.

It causes Otabek to look up, the half inch he needs to, to meet Yuri’s eyes. Yuri tugs a little more firmly.

“Come on, _Beka_ , let’s go lie down. I don’t feel good.” Yuri says. It’s not a complete lie. Victor had overworked him after their fight today so he’s a little tired. But he knows Otabek will respond to him not feeling well, so he uses it.

Otabek eases the mug down onto the counter and Yuri sees the corner of his mouth raise in a half smile. “Of course, you don’t feel good. You tried to rip your coach’s hair out and then immediately had to skate under his instruction. I’m surprised you’re not sore all over from some of the jumps he made you redo.”

Yuri snorts. It wasn’t that many jumps. He’d really only flubbed three and it was because he couldn’t stop thinking about Otabek’s words. He turns to hide the flush reaching his face, and yanks Otabek to the living room, before practically shoving him down on the couch.

Otabek just lands without complaint, then stretches one arm over the back of the couch where Yuri is about to sit. Yuri adjusts his ponytail (he’d take it down if his hair wasn’t so long now) and grabs the remote before settling right against Otabek. He realizes a moment too late how intimate it is. It’s not like they haven’t always sat this close, but now he’s aware of the way he settles against Otabek without even thinking about it.

It gives him ideas. So far, they haven’t progressed further than a few rounds of very controlled dry humping, and one blistering occurrence of Otabek pulling Yuri off in a rink bathroom while they’re still fully clothed. Yuri craves more; trusts Otabek to show him all the things he’s missed out on by not ever letting anyone close enough to touch.

Yuri quickly presses play on the movie for background noise, then twists his chin against Otabek’s shoulder.

He takes the chance to look directly into Otabek’s dark brown (almost black) eyes. “You know, I’m not sore,” Yuri states. He’s going for nonchalant as he digs down with his chin to keep from smiling. “ _but I’d kind of like to be_.”

He doesn’t know what reaction to expect, since this aspect of _them_ is still so fresh. Yuri knows he’s not the one meant to take the lead or make suggestions, but when he hears Otabek’s breath hitch slightly and the arm around his shoulders stiffens, he thinks it’s at least a small revenge for earlier.

Yuri doesn’t know fully where to go from here, but Otabek’s words are still drifting through his forebrain and they spur him on. “I believe you told me something would happen if I was bad, right before you let me beat up that annoying coach of mine.” Yuri doesn’t know why his stomach is fluttering so badly. “I think that makes me _bad_ , hmm?”

Otabek stills his reaction expertly and manages to look back at the TV. “Calm down, _Tiger._ I thought you wanted to watch a movie?”

The whine that accidentally escapes Yuri’s lips at the way Otabek says ‘tiger’, surprises both of them. “I thought you wanted to punish me?” He recovers by whispering. “I was looking forward to it.”

Otabek turns his face back toward him, their noses almost touching, and says lowly. “Perhaps my idea of punishment is making you watch this entire movie without making a sound.” He then turns back to the screen where the characters are locked in an excited discussion over a new man in the area. 

Yuri is quiet for a moment. He never thought some slow movie could ever be used against him, but the thought of sitting here against Otabek, utterly silent, is a _real_ punishment. “What happens… if I’m not quiet?”

Otabek just smirks. “I don’t think we’ll get to find out, _since you’re going to be quiet_.” He says with finality.

 _Okay_ , Yuri thinks, perhaps he can manage to be quiet for two hours and fifteen minutes while Otabek enjoys his suffering. _No_ , he decides fully that that isn’t fair, and opens his mouth to say so, but then he feels Otabek’s hand edge up below his ponytail. The fingers wiggling their way up through the tight blonde strands to massage his scalp gently.

The words die on Yuri’s lips as his head lolls back; reaching for the sensation. He knows Otabek does it on purpose, especially as the fingers deftly move up to the elastic bit holding Yuri’s hair in place.

Otabek appears to remain fully focused on the movie as he frees Yuri’s golden locks completely and lets them fall over the back of the couch in long waves. He threads his fingers back into them as Yuri realizes he, himself, hasn’t focused one bit on the movie, and no longer has any will to speak.

 _Bastard._ He thinks lightly as the massaging of his scalp gets a little harsher. Otabek knows too many ways to put him in line.

Yuri must drift off to the soothing feel of Otabek’s fingers, because he wakes up just as the movie ends with a dry mouth and a slightly roused dick.

He had been dreaming of them finally doing much more explicit things, and wonders if Otabek somehow knows that. The thought makes him produce a strangled noise as he tries to raise up and cover his chub. He momentarily forgets the hand that’s _still_ in his hair, only to get yanked back down by it.

“That was a sweet movie.” Otabek says as he wrenches Yuri’s head back and leans down next to his bared throat. “You talk in your sleep you know.”

Yuri swallows thickly in response. “Really? What do I say?”

Yuri feels Otabek smile against the crook of his neck, “You mix your languages.” He answers, trailing his nose up to Yuri’s cheek. “But that didn’t stop me from hearing my name.”

Yuri’s breath catches in his throat, and he realizes he’s arching his back—to match the way his neck is stretched—as he feels Otabek’s free hand press against his stomach to push him back down. He follows the guidance and settles back on the sofa, but it allows Otabek’s palm to slip dangerously low. Yuri wants it lower, but knows that’s not how this game goes.

“ _Beka_.” Yuri pleads. His sweatpants are now noticeably tented.

“Yeah,” Otabek says right below Yuri’s earlobe, “You said it just like that.”

He doesn’t understand how Otabek is staying so composed as he turns Yuri into a panting mess just by barely touching him. Of course, that _is_ part of the appeal.

“Does it count?” Yuri breathes.

Otabek pulls back a bit, “Hmm?”

Yuri swallows again as he meets Otabek’s eyes. The blown pupils are almost indistinguishable from the dark irises. Otabek isn’t completely unaffected by this.

 _“I was supposed to be quiet,”_ Yuri murmurs, “but I talk in my sleep.”

Otabek smirks, and removes the hand that’s forcing Yuri’s head back. “Would that be fair?” He asks, his brows knitting together playfully. “You weren’t talking on purpose.”

Yuri inhales as his head comes to rest normally on the couch. “I would have. If I were awake.”

Otabek’s smirk deepens. “Really?”

 _No_ , Yuri thinks. He probably wouldn’t have. “ _Yes_.”

Otabek’s face doesn’t change but he stands up suddenly. “Do you like doing what I say, _Yuratchka_?”

The inflection on the special name rushes a low heat further into Yuri’s abdomen. He nods the only response he can manage.

“Then get up.” Otabek says. It’s a demand even though the steady tone of his voice never changes.

Yuri has a bit of difficulty, but manages to get to his feet, breathing hard. Otabek simply takes Yuri lightly by the hand before he turns around and leads them down the hallway. Yuri knows exactly where they’re going before they even reach the door to his bedroom. _Finally_ , he thinks.

As soon as they’re in the room Otabek is crowding Yuri up against the wall.

He’s pressing his lips to Yuri’s in an instant. Their first kiss had been all heat and desperation, every one after it the same. This is no exception. Yuri reacts with as much force as he thinks he’s allowed, shutting his eyes against the way their lips spark off each other, like they’re trying to start a fire between their mouths.

Otabek grabs Yuri’s wrists to stop Yuri trying to wrap them behind his neck. Then he bites down on Yuri’s lower lip right as Yuri’s knuckles slam into the wall behind him. Their whole bodies press flush together, and Yuri moans as Otabek’s hard length grazes his thigh.

Otabek breaks the kiss suddenly, pulling back.

Yuri chases after his mouth and body with his own, straining against Otabek’s hold.

“Why?” Otabek pants.

Yuri’s brain doesn’t follow anything except the fact that Otabek is no longer kissing him. “ _Beka_.” He gasps, then follows with a sharp “What do you mean, why?”

“ _Why do you like to do what I say?”_

Yuri opens his eyes. “I-I d-don’t know.” He stutters. The look on Otabek’s face is intense as he stands in front of Yuri.

“You don’t listen to anyone else, so why me?” Otabek clarifies, releasing one of Yuri’s wrists and trailing a hand along Yuri’s jaw. Yuri feels the long strands of hair that are sticking to his face and neck get brushed aside tenderly.

Yuri doesn’t have a good answer. He really doesn’t know for certain why he completely submits to _Otabek Altin_. He’s tried his damnedest not to think about it too hard even before it had turned sexual. When he does he comes up with a reason that it’s still too soon to give. So, he settles for a different one.

“It’s the same as with my grandpa.” He gushes out and then winces. That didn’t sound right, but it’s hard to have a serious conversation with a fully erect penis. Otabek’s face twists a bit as well and Yuri rushes to explain, “I meant that I trust you, Beka. I-I only listen to people I trust.”

It’s definitely no lie. He’s trusted Otabek since the very instance he’d climbed on the back of the older boy’s motorbike. He possibly trusts Otabek the most out of anyone in the world, besides his grandfather. There’s more to it, he knows, _but it’s too soon_.

Otabek seems to accept that explanation and surges back at Yuri full force. The detached hand doesn’t go back to Yuri’s wrist, and instead comes up under his chin, as Otabek tilts Yuri’s head to get at his neck.

The slick press of Otabek’s lips above Yuri’s jumping pulse causes Yuri’s focus to slip again, but he gathers it just enough to ask a question of his own. “Why do you…l-like to… tell me what to do?” He asks between breaths.

Otabek doesn’t pause his assault on Yuri’s throat. He just nips and sucks—not quite hard enough to bruise—up to Yuri’s jaw, where he whispers. “ _Selfish reasons_.”

Yuri sucks in air at that, and then whimpers as Otabek detaches himself again, completely this time, and steps away. The loss feels tremendous, even though Yuri understands that most of this has been mere teasing.

“Very selfish reasons.” Otabek repeats as his eyes trail down and then back up Yuri’s lithe frame. Yuri lets his arms fall to his sides under Otabek’s gaze.

“Strip.” Otabek orders, then asks, “Where do you keep your stuff?”

Yuri is already fumbling to get his t-shirt off without tangling his hair as he answers, “Left side table, top drawer.”

Yuri removes the rest of his clothes, tossing them away as he watches Otabek fumble around in the drawer. He finally draws out a thin bottle before shutting it.

He sheds his own clothes as he steps back toward Yuri, and Yuri lets his own eyes do some trailing. Otabek’s shoulders are almost too broad for a skater’s, but they melt into toned arms and a sharp-lined torso. His legs are shorter and thicker than Yuri’s (which is why Yuri is almost an inch or so taller) and the hard length bobbing between them is enough to make Yuri’s mouth go dry. His own cock throbs and Yuri wants to lunge and put his hands and mouth on every inch of Otabek’s skin, but he waits.

Otabek stops almost a foot away, and pops the cap on the bottle. “Have you done this before?”

Otabek would know if he’d done this before, _should_ know that he’s the only person who has ever gotten this close; evoked this level of reaction. Yuri shakes his head. “Only to myself.” He admits. “Have you?”

Otabek nods, the corner of his mouth tilting down. “Yes, but this is different.”

Yuri inhales, “H-how so?”

Otabek steps forward and faintly grips one of Yuri’s hips. “It’s you, and you mean something.”

Yuri doesn’t have time to let those words settle or to fret over what they mean, because Otabek is using the grip on his hip to make him turn and face the wall.

“Put your palms in front of your face for balance,” Otabek instructs, “I want you a very specific way.”

Yuri does as instructed, flattening his palms on the wall then leaning forward onto them. Otabek presses up behind him instantly, his hard length brushing against the curve of Yuri’s ass. Otabek lets go of Yuri’s hip and gathers the long strands of hair that trail between them down Yuri’s bare back. It tickles as they’re moved so they all fall over one of his shoulders, and Otabek presses a light kiss right where the hair used to cover Yuri’s spine.

“This is embarrassing to admit.” Otabek says faintly; almost a sigh.

Yuri knows the other well enough to know that he’s about to rethink whatever his next command is. “I’ll do whatever you ask, Beka. Whatever it is you want.”

“Okay.” Otabek gasps—just barely. “You do this thing, sometimes. You’ve done it ever since I’ve known you.” He pauses and Yuri hears him take a shuddering breath, “You put your leg up behind you, like all the way up, perfectly straight, then you just stand there for forever, texting and doing whatever. I used to watch you do it and be jealous. My legs will _never_ stretch like that. Then you did it last week, for the first time I’ve seen since you’ve gotten taller. I had different feelings about it entirely.”

Yuri’s whole body shudders as Otabek’s confession echoes off the back of his neck. He knows exactly what Otabek means. It’s something Yuri’s fought hard to remain able to do. Especially, as his body grew into its current adult form and his flexibility wavered.

He gently begins raising his right leg out behind him, being careful not to kick Otabek. He doesn’t have to worry because Otabek moves slightly to the side; keeping his body firmly against Yuri’s. Yuri is shaking as he gets the leg halfway up, but not from effort. His cock is bobbing painfully in front of him, and he knows he has to wait for it to get any attention.

Otabek must have switched the lube to his other hand, because suddenly his right hand is on the back of Yuri’s extended thigh. He feels Otabek’s breath quicken as he rubs little circles over the flexing muscle, and up toward Yuri’s ass. Yuri quickens the ascent with Otabek’s nudging and he’s letting his elbows collapse; leaning fully against the wall by the time his foot is perfectly pointed to the ceiling. Yuri won’t be able to do this in practice anymore. There’s no way he can stand like this in public, because he’ll only be able to think of Otabek’s lean body pressed against him and he can’t afford a boner on the practice rink.

Otabek’s breath is stilted, and his hand leaves Yuri’s leg just long enough to come back slick. Yuri hears the lube cap being shut and then the bottle clatters onto the floor.

“When’s the last time you opened yourself up?” Otabek asks heavily.

 _Yesterday, while thinking of you._ Yuri thinks desperately, but says, “Only a few days ago…not even been a w-week.”

“Good.” Otabek rasps.

Yuri feels the slick fingers edging toward his entrance, and it suddenly becomes very hard to keep his leg in the air. It wavers, but before he can let it fall, Otabek shifts so the quivering limb lands against his shoulder, keeping it stretched up but not quite at full height.

“You’re going to keep that leg up one way or another.”  Otabek says darkly. Instinctually, Yuri tries to raise it back to full point, but then Otabek slides the first cool digit in a circle before poking it past Yuri’s rim. He mewls at the intrusion and all of his control glides away. There’s no way he could keep this position on his own, not like this. If his face wasn’t already against his hands and the wall, his elbows would surely have collapsed just then.

Otabek pushes his shoulder hard into the muscle at the front of Yuri’s thigh and it burns so good. It almost distracts him from the way Otabek has begun easing his finger in and out, while attaching his mouth to the back of Yuri’s neck. Yuri can’t control the noises that begin escaping him as he tries to focus on all the sensations at once.

He’d imagined this before while getting himself off; different scenarios that all involved Otabek stretching him open, but none like this. Yuri’s thoughts had been more horizontal, with Otabek tossing him down roughly on a bed, maybe pinning Yuri’s hands the way he’d done when they’d gotten off before, then Otabek would quickly have his way with him while Yuri was trapped beneath him. But this… the way they are right now, Yuri finds that his imagination could never have prepared him for this. Just knowing that this is exactly how Otabek wants it, makes his skin feel hot.

He jerks when Otabek finally adds a second finger, drawing another mewl from Yuri’s lips. Yuri’s cock twitches at the stretch causing a small seam of pre-come to glide down the tip. He wants so badly for Otabek to touch it, but Otabek seem focused on doing other things. The hand that’s not being used to finger Yuri into a blithering mess, is being used to spread him open.

Otabek’s mouth has left Yuri’s neck, and Yuri makes himself twist to look at him. All he can see is Otabek’s face at such a close proximity, but it’s enough to have Yuri moaning. Otabek’s mouth is open (just barely) where he’s panting, and his eyes are trained down intently. Yuri knows he’s watching the way Yuri’s body takes his fingers. If the way Otabek’s equally hard length is twitching against Yuri’s skin is any indication, he’s enjoying doing it almost as much as Yuri enjoys receiving it.

Yuri shuts his eyes and turns his face back into his hands. He’s dizzy as Otabek spreads him wider and a third finger nudges against the other two. Otabek holds it at the entrance for a moment, and Yuri feel’s Otabek’s shoulder push his leg higher.

“You’re so beautiful like this, _Yuratchka_.” Otabek says, his voice shaking hotly. “All stretched out like this… _never seen anything so beautiful_.”

The words fuse with the tingle of the third finger finally sliding in and Yuri’s stomach coils. He almost comes untouched. “ _O-Otabek… Beka.”_ He cries, “I’m c-close.”

“Can you…” Otabek audibly swallows a breath, “Will you really come from just this?”

Yuri most definitely will if Otabek keeps speeding up his scissoring rhythm, fringing repeatedly over Yuri’s sensitive spot. His head is starting to get that hazy feeling and his ears are full of his own sounds. Yuri’s heart stutters on one particular stroke and it causes him to give an overwhelmed string of pleas. “Y-yeah…yes… p-please, _Beka_!”

He expects Otabek to speed up, but he should know better. Instead, Otabek’s fingers are leaving him completely. Yuri shakes against the sudden emptiness and his raised foot is suddenly slamming to the ground jarring his entire body. He lets out a small whimper at the impact.

Otabek responds by trailing his knuckles up Yuri’s spine, before twisting them in Yuri’s hair and pulling him back by it. It doesn’t hurt but it causes Yuri’s body to shake harder with want, and he falls against Otabek’s solid chest a bit limply. Otabek wraps his arm around to Yuri’s front to better support him, and splays his still slick hand against the tight abs right above Yuri’s seeping shaft.

Otabek’s voice comes out heady by Yuri’s ear. “As much as I want to see you come like that, I also want to be inside you.” Otabek turns them around, walking Yuri towards the bed before releasing him. “Lie down on your side. Face the wall.”

Yuri clumsily obeys the whispered command, climbing up toward the pillows and making sure to face the wall. He props himself up with one elbow to look back at Otabek. He does so just in time to see Otabek’s dark hair fall forward as he bends to collect the lube he had dropped earlier. When he raises up he pops the cap and begins slicking himself as he approaches the bed.

Yuri quakes just from watching him stroke himself. The pure lust and drive on Otabek’s face is too open and hard to be anything other than sexy. He’d called Yuri beautiful, but Yuri thinks the word applies right back to Otabek, and not just right now, but always. The thought makes his chest tighten.

Yuri turns his face back to the wall as Otabek’s weight presses into the mattress, and waits. He’s too aware of his own breathing as Otabek scoots closer and lines himself up with no hesitation.

When the tip of Otabek’s cock nudges his entrance, Yuri’s breath rushes out. He’s ready, _so so ready_. He moves his leg forward to allow a better angle but Otabek grabs him behind the knee.

“It’ll be easier if you bend this one up.” Otabek says, moving to lightly nip at Yuri’s ear. “I’ll keep a hold on it, but bring your knee up toward your head if you can.”

Yuri nods and does so, thinking that it feels a bit like the floor stretches he does for ballet. Then Otabek’s slick dick slides against his entrance again and erases all thought entirely.

Otabek is rather thick, and Yuri only has a moment to wonder if it will hurt before Otabek finally pushes in.

A muffled curse escapes Otabek. “ _Fuck_ , you’re tight, Yuri. Feels perfect.”

It doesn’t hurt, it burns a bit as Otabek seats himself entirely inside, but it’s not really a true pain. It still makes Yuri gasp and keen at the strange feeling of being so _full._

Otabek plants a soft kiss on Yuri’s cheek. “ _Relax_. You have to relax, _Yuratchka_.”

Yuri hadn’t realized he was tensing up, his toes pointing and his muscles coiling tight. He promptly relaxes his foot and tries to control his breathing. The heat scorching its way through him makes it hard. He feels overwhelmed, too aware that Otabek’s inside him, and kissing his neck, and rubbing circles on his knee with his thumb. He wants to feel everything, but it’s almost too much. It seems like solid minutes before he can relax, but he manages.

Otabek praises him for it, but still doesn’t move, “That’s it. Let go. _So good, Yuri_.”

“ _Beka_ , please!” Yuri begs, surprising himself. “I’m ready.”

“I thought I was the one who decides that.” Otabek teases, but he finally moves. He pulls out excruciatingly slow before slamming purposefully back in. That’s how he sets the rhythm; lingering and torturous. Each thrust punching high-toned grunts from Yuri’s throat.

When Otabek flexes Yuri’s leg as far as it will go and changes the angle slightly, Yuri shouts. “ _Fuck_ , Otabek!”

Yuri’s cock is leaking more with each brutal push, the shocks of being stretched and pounded sparking lights behind his eyelids. It feels even better than Otabek’s fingers had. He feels his release building again. Yuri manages a breathy whimper “I’m… close.”

Otabek speeds up even more, making small sounds of his own. “Say my name.” He pants and Yuri’s stomach clenches, “Come while saying my name.”

“ _Beka!_ ” Yuri’s climax rips through him so fast, he would have been screaming for Otabek without the command. His head feels like it’s spinning and Yuri absolutely trembles through it. Otabek keeps thrusting as Yuri tightens around him, then he feels Otabek’s hips stutter. The other man stills suddenly with a cry, while Yuri’s cock is still pulsing. He can feel streams of come striking all the way to his chin, as well as warmth growing inside him.

It takes a moment for the spots to clear when Yuri opens his eyes, and he feels Otabek shudder against his back as he softens inside Yuri, dropping his hold on Yuri’s leg.

They lay like that for a few moments, tangled together. Yuri doesn’t think he can get up, but knows realistically he’ll have to clean himself. That thought is reaffirmed when Otabek gently eases out of him and he can feel some of the wetness between them.

“Don’t move.” Otabek says, as he moves off the bed.

“I can’t anyway.” Yuri says, voice hoarse.

Otabek chuckles, and Yuri closes his eyes as he hears Otabek step toward the connecting bathroom. He doesn’t react when the mattress dips back down and he feels Otabek’s hands moving a cloth tenderly between his thighs and over his ass.

Yuri does pry his eyes back open when Otabek gently moves him onto his back and leans over him. Yuri watches as the rag is smoothed over his chest, before Otabek tosses it away and looks down at Yuri. His hand comes to rest under Yuri’s chin, tilting his it back.

Otabek leans down then, as though to kiss him and Yuri sucks in a breath. Instead, he feels Otabek’s tongue move smoothly from the hollow of his throat to right below his jaw, gathering the last of Yuri’s come.

“You taste good.” Otabek says lowly before finally claiming Yuri’s mouth. The kiss is slow and languid, unlike earlier, and Yuri moans at the taste of himself on Otabek’s tongue. It ends too soon as Otabek pulls back. “Do you want under the blankets?”

Otabek’s body is still hot against him providing enough warmth, so Yuri just shakes his head. “That involves moving.”

Otabek smiles and settles down beside Yuri, rolling to face him and starting a slow caress over Yuri’s ribs. “Where’s your ice-skater stamina?” Otabek teases, but it’s playful. He presses another chaste kiss to Yuri’s lips. “Is the famous _Russian Tiger_ completely spent after only one round?”

“ _Beka,”_ Yuri grumbles, trying to turn his face into the pillow, “I may call myself a tiger, but right now I feel like you’ve reduced me to nothing more than a tired kitten.” He admits shyly.

Otabek’s caress stills and he places his other hand under Yuri’s head. “You’re still _very much_ a tiger, Yuri.” He says sincerely, cupping Yuri’s cheek and making their eyes meet, “I’ve just figured out how to put you on a leash.”

That makes Yuri smile as he allows Otabek to pull him closer. Yuri suddenly remembers Victor’s comments from this morning, and almost laughs. _He really has been tamed_ , but he’s okay as long as it’s Otabek’s doing. “I’m fine with you holding my leash, I think,” Yuri confesses, “but you better keep it tight.”

Otabek chuckles and wraps an arm over Yuri’s side. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Yuri knows there’s a conversation to be had, about the things they’ve done and why this feels so right, but now isn’t the time. He’s naked and he’s tired and he wants nothing more than to sleep in Otabek’s arms.

For now, that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Will there be a Part Four? Maybe... (I never make promises).
> 
> feel free to bother me at [kingplitsetsky](http://kingplitsetsky.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I enjoy feedback. It gives me a will to live.


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